


Jaime, Brienne, and the Bachelor Party on Wheels

by EmpressM



Series: The Rowers [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Art, Bicycles, F/M, Rowing, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, criticism of martini glasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressM/pseuds/EmpressM
Summary: Brienne started listing all the reasons that having a group of increasingly inebriated people bicycling some kind of monstrosity between bars in downtown King’s Landing was a very bad idea, and that it was probably too late to reserve one anyway.Jaime chose the party bike.Tyrion had no trouble booking it.And now it's on.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: The Rowers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130369
Comments: 84
Kudos: 158
Collections: Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020





	Jaime, Brienne, and the Bachelor Party on Wheels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Samirant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samirant/gifts).



Brienne checked her list. She had a small first aid kit, with antiseptic wipes and band aids. Anything more serious would need a doctor anyway. She looked up the number of the nearest hospital emergency room and saved it and the address of the police department to her phone. She carefully read King's Landing ordinances and determined that the police no longer required cash bail, so she didn't need to prepare for that, but if someone got arrested, at least she'd know where to retrieve them.

She downloaded a rideshare app that she usually avoided due to their unethical treatment of drivers, but she knew that taxis were scarce downtown in the late hours, and she might need car service if festivities came to an abrupt end. She searched the web and found an in-depth article on The 25 Ways to be Super Prepared for a Bachelor/Bachelorette Party, and worked her way down the list, because Brienne was nothing if not super prepared. 

The only thing on the list that she left off was flip-flops, in case the prototypical bride could no longer ignore the pain caused by her stilettos. She knew Ygritte was not the type to tolerate high heels, and besides, the bride was not her responsibility, the groom was. And Jon was predictably low maintenance, at least after the second beer.

She sighed, stuffed a few last things in her tote, and stepped out of her apartment. The evening already looked like a whole series of terrible choices, and it hadn't even begun yet.

~~

Five days prior:

"Tyrion?" 

"Come in!" 

Jaime unlocked the front door with his brother's house app and walked through the living room, dodging furniture of varying sizes. He thought, not for the first time, of Gildianne and the Three Bears, passing a small chair, a medium sofa, and settling into a large upholstered armchair that Tyrion kept to accommodate Jaime’s long legs. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie.

"And what brings you here for a rare weeknight visit?" Tyrion emerged from the kitchen, carrying a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He looked unruffled and unsurprised, in a faded university t-shirt and shorts.

Jaime grimaced. Tyrion didn't ask questions he didn't already know the answers to. "I got a text from Ygritte saying she needs me to be a witness at the courthouse on Monday. Why and what do you have to do with this?"

"To be witness to her marriage, of course." Tyrion poured a glass for himself, and one for his brother.

"Her marriage? She and Jon have some massive festival planned up North in the winter, with every known extended family member using their wedding as an excuse to stage a reunion. Are they eloping?" He could see Ygritte seizing a chance to escape the circus, but from what he knew of Jon Snow, dodging family expectation seemed unlikely.

"It's complicated."

"Do tell," gritted Jaime. Showing impatience would only encourage his brother to prolong the suspense, but he was concerned. Was Ygritte ok? She hadn't responded to his texts, and while they'd been close that one racing season in university and kept in touch over the years, they hadn't talked in a few months.

"As you know, the North is exiting the Seven Kingdoms, and while the separation date has been pushed back a few times, the new deadline is midsummer." Tyrion poured himself another glass. "You haven't touched your whiskey."

Jaime glared. "Get on with it. I'm not here for a political lesson."

"It's all related. When the North becomes an independent kingdom again, it's not clear how all the laws are going to change. Citizenship, right to work, property ownership across borders, all of that. And with Ygritte coming from beyond the Wall, that's even more unclear. It's pretty certain that a marriage in the North would be recognized in the future Six Kingdoms, but all the other stuff, no one knows for sure, because stubborn politicians are refusing to work it out."

Jaime downed his glass. He needed to head Tyrion off before the night turned into a lecture on governmental folly. "OK, and why does this matter?"

"Jon manages the Stark interests in the south, and they expect that Ygritte will start acting as proxy for joint ventures. With some of the older companies still requiring citizenship for voting, it just makes sense for them to come to King's Landing and get married while Jon's still a citizen of the Seven Kingdoms -"

"Because then Ygritte will be a citizen of the Seven Kingdoms too," Jaime finished. It was hard to think of his untamed freshman friend as grown up and handling business strategy instead of house parties. On the other hand, he’d done the same.

"Right. Whatever happens when the North exits, they'll still have their documents and corporate voting rights in order."

"And it all has to be done by the midsummer deadline, thus, the courthouse wedding on Monday." It was all coming together in Jaime's head. "And you advised them on this clever plan?" He raised an eyebrow. His brother may have only just finished law school, but there was no doubt of his shrewdness. 

Tyrion raised a third glass. "To the happy couple."

"Indeed."

"Of course, as Ygritte's maid of honor, you need to throw her a bachelorette party."

~~

How Jaime Lannister befriended Ygritte Frihed was a bit of a mystery to anyone who knew the rarified circles that the Lannisters usually traveled in, but it all went back to rowing.

Almost all recruited rowers at a Division 1 university came from elite prep schools, groomed through generations to represent their families someday in the finance, legal, and real estate worlds, but first in sport - polo, sailing, skiing, and also crew, as rowing is known.

There were usually only a dozen experienced freshman rowers at KLU in any given year between the men's and women's teams, so more students would join as walk-ons for the novice crew, and they fit two molds: 1) Very tall and strong, and a handful who were 2) Tiny and loud.

Brienne was obviously in the first group. A little clumsy with the oar at first, she soon found her groove and discovered that she loved rowing. It placed demands on her whole body- legs, core, arms- that made her feel powerful instead of oversized. The average height of the women's crew was 6 feet, so she was merely tall among them, not a giant. Brienne spent her freshman novice year in the 6 seat, keeping her head down and refining her skills, and by the midpoint of her sophomore year was rowing stroke (the 8 seat) by her work ethic, perfected technique, and sheer fitness. 

She would have said that she hardly knew Jaime Lannister back then. He was a fifth year senior, a champion with a questionable reputation, and not likely to pay attention to an awkward novvy. Brienne would occasionally see him smirking at her across the boathouse and flush, certain that he was making some pointed comment to his fellow crewmates. She’d heard endless barbs about her big teeth, abundance of freckles, coarse features, so what was one more, even from the handsomest man she'd ever seen? He'd saunter away, golden hair glinting in the sun, and she'd turn back to checking a rigger, or whatever task she'd taken on.

Ygritte, on the other hand, knew him much better.

The second group to join the team (tiny and loud) become coxswains. As a sort of quarterback for the crew, the cox sat in the stern (rear), in charge of strategy, steering, and getting 8 rowers, 8 oars, and the 60 foot long boat from point A to point B. It turned out that Ygritte wasn't just petite and mouthy, she had an innate grasp of command, the ability to give precise orders and make eight tall men move as one. When the men's varsity coxswain was kicked off the team for poor grades, she moved up from the novice boat to the varsity eight.

Jaime, as captain and stroke, was not too thrilled to have an unseasoned frosh coxswain, and a girl at that, but when he lashed out at her, she gave as good as she got. After she made a few sharp decisions under pressure, he grudgingly recognized her natural talent and gave his approval. His friend Addam always had his back (literally) in the 7 seat, but there were a few guys who always resented his strength, skill, and daddy's money, and he'd open himself up to trouble if he wasn't aligned with his coxswain. Over an entire racing season sitting face to face, he and Ygritte grew to be friends, and he appreciated her humor and rough edges, while she egged on his patrician snark.

~~

If Ygritte was forthright to a fault, Jon was more like Brienne, cautious and reserved. Brienne had known him peripherally from the Starks, and they became friends during the semester they took the same linear algebra class from a young visiting professor from Dorne who had clearly entered the classroom straight from a "Teaching in the Me Too era" workshop. The prof carefully rotated between questions from male and female students, which was particularly notable because by this level in the coursework, there were only three women left in a class of thirty, and made sure that no woman was interrupted when making a comment. 

Brienne alternated between feeling mortified by the attention and pleased that she and her compatriots were being listened-to. One of the other women noticed that the prof kept a photo of his girlfriend in a thong bikini on his desk, but office hours standards were always scrupulously kept, door wide open, groups of students visiting together.

During one study session or another, she and Jon exchanged some confidences, and she found that it was just good to feel known, to share a couple of stories about their families (complicated), weekends (mostly studying) and sports (intense for her, recreational for him, plus hiking for both). She appreciated his low-key company, as someone who knew what it was like to be alone in a crowd, who understood not quite belonging, not quite fitting in.

So when he called and asked her to be witness to his courthouse wedding in a few days, she immediately said yes. Brienne was fiercely loyal to her few friends, and she would do anything for them.

Sixty minutes later, she had some regrets.

~~

It seemed so simple. Take a few hours off work on Monday morning, meet Jon and Ygritte downtown, and treat them to lunch afterwards. With how late the rest of the software developers would crawl in, she'd barely miss anything at the office.

"A bachelor party? What?" Brienne spluttered. She shouldn't have answered the phone when an unknown number called. 

"They've decided to make a weekend of it, since they're flying into King's Landing anyway," said Jaime Lannister. "Don't sound so put out. You don't have anything better to do anyway."

Brienne bristled. Of course he would imply someone like her wouldn't have plans on a Saturday night, and unfortunately, he was right, but it didn't make her feel better. She managed to bite her tongue before asking how he even got her number. 

After all, she hadn't spoken to Jaime in years, not that they ever did more than tolerate each other's presence. She barely remembered him. Ygritte must have shared her number, and what for? While she was working this out, he was talking and talking, she missed a whole bunch of things he said, and then caught the last part - something about conferencing in Tyrion.

Now she had TWO Lannisters on the phone, and no idea how it escalated.

"Hello Brienne, hello big brother, seems that you need my party expertise. Always happy to serve!" Tyrion sounded a little tipsy, which meant he hadn't changed much since university days, as he rolled into a cheerful bout of questions on how she'd been, did she still row, how her company was doing. She knew him a little in school, everyone knew him, but it was unexpected that he'd be so friendly. 

"What's going on?" she finally interjected.

"I can't let Ygritte get married without a celebration," said Jaime, "and it only seems right that Jon gets one too." Brienne thought that Jaime must see Jon as dour and dull, which was not entirely untrue (at least from outside appearances), but he must also see that Jon was the perfect counterbalance to Ygritte's exuberance.

Her feeble protest that the real celebration would be in the North later in the year went unheard. Jaime had called in the big guns of the party world, which ironically translated into Tyrion, and Tyrion clearly was a man of action. He declared that with only a few days’ notice, most of Ygritte and Jon's friends would be unable to make it, so they should combine the bachelor and bachelorette parties (for which Brienne breathed a very brief sigh of relief - she wouldn't be on the hook to do her second least favorite thing, which was plan a drunken party - but then realized that she'd still have to do her first least favorite thing, which was to _attend_ a drunken party.)

Jaime said he'd pull together a few members of the crew team from university days. Brienne knew that Jon had a high school buddy, Sam, whom he visited whenever he was in town, and she'd send a text to the StarkSibs group chat to see who else could pop over.

Meanwhile, Tyrion started going down a list of options. 

Strip club (traditional, but soundly rejected by Brienne and surprisingly, also Jaime. Apparently, he had some sort of unnecessary protective instinct for Ygritte.)

Casino (rejected by Brienne. Gambling wasn't legal in King's Landing, and renting a limo and partying all the way to the nearest gaming house outside city limits would take too many hours. They only had Saturday night and needed to stay local.)

Limo or party bus (rejected by Jaime. He was not enticed by driving in circles, yelling out the window at passers-by.)

Party bus with pole dancers (No, just no.)

Cigar bar (rejected by Brienne, too stinky.)

Spa day, take-out, and sleepover with chick flicks (rejected by Jaime. Brienne thought that Tyrion only put this on the list to mess with his brother. She started thinking of Jaime more favorably until he made some offhanded quip about how he wouldn't want the party horrified at seeing her in pajamas.)

Paintball tournament (this got some interest from all parties, but learning that the wedding couple's plane wouldn’t land until close to dinner knocked it out of the running.)

Hunting/camping/fishing (rejected on the basis that it made no sense for a single evening, so Brienne didn't even have to bring up animal cruelty and the sub-optimal combination of alcohol and firearms.)

"OK," said Tyrion, "That just leaves going to a brewpub, or several breweries, or -"

This was when Brienne realized that Tyrion had been leading them down a trail to what he'd planned all along.

"Best of all," he continued, "a party bike to take us from brewery to brewery."

"A what?" asked Jaime and Brienne simultaneously. Brienne was indignant at being conned into what she knew was a trap. Jaime was a little more forgiving. He knew that whatever disaster this turned out to be, it wouldn’t be boring.

"King's Landing Party Bike will provide a vehicle where eight party-goers pedal a group bike, and we'll ride it from pub to pub. They have a special exemption that waives the KL open container law, so we can drink on the bike in between bars. It'll be perfect, unique, memorable!" 

"How are you going to . . ." Brienne imagined that over the phone, Jaime would be gesturing at Tyrion. She knew that for all Jaime's general asshole behavior, he'd always been remarkably astute on the accessibility front, perhaps due to his brother's condition. He used his golden persona, flashing a sharp smile, to push for wheelchair ramps at the facilities that bore their family's name, argued for sign language interpreters at school assemblies, got city council meetings closed-captioned. Not that she watched what he did or anything.

"There's seating for those who don't wish to or can't pedal," Tyrion said smugly. There were few times when his dwarfism gave him advantages over the typically-bodied, and he was clearly looking forward to the rest of the suckers providing the man- and woman-power for the vehicle, while he rode and drank in comfort.

Brienne started listing all the reasons that having a group of increasingly inebriated people bicycling some kind of monstrosity between bars in downtown King’s Landing was a very bad idea, and that it was probably too late to reserve one anyway.

Jaime chose the party bike. 

Tyrion had no trouble booking it.

And now it's on.

~~ 

Saturday night

Brienne walked the last block to the Golden Company Brewpub in a surprisingly upbeat mood. The weather was gorgeous, she had a great run that morning, and she was going to get to catch up with Jon and hopefully a few old pals from crew. When she swung the door open, she saw the place was going for a quirky vibe, with two walls created from what looked like metal shipping containers, and what looked like a taco truck for a kitchen.

She was the first to arrive, of course, and as she looked from side to side, she remembered everything she hated about bars. Big Brienne, too tall, too unfeminine, too unattractive, too out of place. Heads turned to examine her, and then looked away. She knew intellectually that they were merely looking for their friends and weren't evaluating and rejecting her, but it dredged up other, nastier days when judging eyes declared her unworthy of men's attention and women's friendship. Old memories were hard to ditch.

A server came by and broke her train of thought. "Welcome to the Golden Company, golden beers on tap!" She had just enough time to give the reservation confirmation number (#3 on the How To Be Prepared list), before Ygritte arrived at top volume, or more accurately, Ygritte's voice arrived, followed closely by her actual self and Jon, and plus Sam and his wife Gilly, who picked them up from the airport. 

Brienne hugged her friends, grateful to leave her flashback behind, and shook hands with Gilly, a sweet-faced woman fresh off her shift at the KL General Hospital. "I've never seen traffic so light," she said, "everyone must be anxious to get to dinner."

"Dinner right here in the bar district, judging by the lack of parking," pointed out Sam. "Luckily, our little car fits about anywhere."

Ygritte sized up the venue and chose a space next to the green metal wall, cheerfully decorated with fairy lights, with a clear view of the front door. While the five of them walked over to find a spot to stand or lean, Jon put his hand on Brienne's arm.

"Thank you for being here for us, for me," he said with his usual serious expression. "It means a lot."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything." Brienne meant every word. She knew that he was thinking of the courthouse more than tonight, but neither of them were big party animals, so at least they had each other for support. The server swept by and handed around a set of drink menus.

"Coconut Curry?" Jon read. "That's a beer?" 

"I recommend the Watermelon Wheat, it's their specialty," said a deep voice coming from below. It was Tyrion, with Jaime just a step behind.

Brienne smiled at Tyrion, and then made the novvy mistake of looking at his brother. It was easy to think that her memory had exaggerated Jaime Lannister's beauty, but it definitely hadn't. Jaime was easily more gorgeous than the hot Tyroshi underwear model currently featured on every other billboard and bus stop, and she almost needed to use her hand to push her own mouth closed. She hoped he didn't notice her gaffe, but a second quick glance showed he had a knowing smirk.

"Good evening."

"Lannister bros in the house," said Ygritte, raising her menu like a toast. 

Soon after, Jaime's good friend Addam appeared at the door, and then Dacey Mormont, who rowed in the 6 seat when Brienne moved to stroke, and their group got noticeably louder, mostly because Ygritte was accustomed to keeping track of all bodies in her party, and at volume. 

She commandeered tall stools for Tyrion and herself, to prevent neck pain from looking up at all her rowers, and naturally, everyone gathered around them. 

"Ygritte and Jon, welcome!" called out Tyrion. The bride and groom-to-be thanked everyone for coming on short notice.

Brienne heard Jaime mutter something, and then louder, "Of course we're here for you, Y." He looked at Addam, and recited, "Some follow their hearts . . ."

Addam bellowed the rest of the joke, "but we follow our COX!"

It was an old chestnut, but never failed to make Brienne wince. Gilly looked uneasy, and she saw Jon lean over and explain that the evening was going to have the world's worst double entendres, given Ygritte's former role of coxswain. True to expectation, it had just started.

"Slow up the slide, then drive it hard, baby!" Dacey dove right in.  
"Match my stroke," Addam purred.  
"Are you good with cox maintenance, Jon?" Jaime, this time.  
"I take good care of my cox box," volleyed Ygritte.

Jon let it wash over him. He'd heard so many rowing in-jokes over the years being in Brienne‘s proximity and still didn't understand most of them, but he knew that if it was this bad so early in the evening, there was no stopping it. Brienne asked him about the flight, and they had a little time to catch up while the innuendoes rolled.

A server came by and Tyrion called out for the day's special, sight unseen, which turned out to be a Maple Bacon Brew. That got a round of laughs, some tentative sips, and when Brienne agreed with the consensus that it tasted much better than expected, Jaime was looking back at her from the other side of the gathering.

Dacey mumbled to her, “That boy’s still got the perfect jawline.”

Brienne had barely a moment to blush, before a different server arrived and distracted the crew with a flight of beers, presented in a muffin tin. Jaime rolled his eyes, "Pretentious a little?"

"You have to be willing to experiment," Tyrion intoned, as he presided over the drinks.

~~ 

The tenth and final member of their party arrived as they were leaving the Golden Company.

"Sansa!" Jon gave her a hug and introduced her to the folks she didn't already know.

"I'm sorry, my call went late."

"No worries, we're just getting started," said Tyrion. Brienne thought that sounded ominous, but as Tyrion herded everyone outside, she carefully noted that no one had consumed enough beer to stumble through the doorway, and each person still seemed quite coordinated. 

Sansa was the only one of the Starks who could make it tonight. Robb had leave from his deployment for the official wedding in the North, but couldn't wrangle a pass for the weekend, and Arya and the younger boys were wrapped up in various school activities.

They halted suddenly on the sidewalk.

"What on earth," started Jon.

"Welcome to King's Landing Party Bike," said a tall thin man, with a decided lack of enthusiasm. "I'm Bronn, your host for the evening." He was standing next to a curious contraption. You could describe it as a sort of bar, with a padded bench on the short end, and stools on either long side, except that instead of stools, there were bicycle seats with pedals beneath, four to a side.

Brienne surreptitiously checked her tote bag for the first aid kit. It was still there. Everyone milled about, inspecting the "bicycle" with varying levels of enthusiasm. Jaime seemed to have gone all in, and had a grin on his handsome face. 

Ygritte took command and assigned seats. "Ports on the left, starboards on the right!" At university, Jaime, Brienne, and Dacey all rowed port (their oar to the port, or left side of the boat, when you're facing forward), and Addam was the odd man out, as the sole starboard. Ygritte anticipated his whine and reached up to slap his shoulder, "Jon and I will join you."

Ygritte settled in the front of the bike, with Jon to her left side, and Jaime across. Jon indicated that Brienne should sit across from him, so she did, even though that put her uncomfortably next to Jaime. She tucked her bag in the small cubby provided, and received a smile from Dacey, who was on her right, across from Addam.

"Always prepared, Tarth?" She knew that Brienne was likely to have packed provisions.

"You got it."

Sam wasn't particularly athletic, but he was game, and climbed onto the last pedaling seat on the right hand side (starboard!) in the rear near Gilly, who'd settled into the cushioned passenger bench in back with Tyrion. Sansa took the pedaling seat across from Sam with confidence. Brienne knew despite her deceptive slenderness, Sansa ran a mean 10k and took a regular spin class. Plus her good sense might temper Tyrion's more dramatic instincts. 

Bronn barked a few instructions, got into the driver's seat, overruled Ygritte's request to steer, and they started to pedal. The rowers immediately noticed that it was a tight fit for them, almost bumping their knees as they spun, but didn't have time to complain before Tyrion hooked up his phone to the built-in sound system. He pumped out the tunes, embedded lights flashed around the bar, and it was impossible not to be in a party mood as they lurched off the curb in a haze of music and colored flickers.

~~ 

Jaime was glad he had Brienne at his right hand, without even having to jockey much for position. She looked particularly striking tonight in a cornflower blue blouse that went well with her eyes. He tried not to be too obvious watching her legs, clad in dark wash jeans, when she climbed into her bike seat, but he thought that Addam noticed. He'd have to be more subtle. 

It'd been almost a year since they crossed paths, and her startup business was beginning to get press that he read in the tech journals. Even with the long hours she must be working there, she'd stayed in shape. Great shape. He adjusted his clothes and shifted his focus to Ygritte, who was thoroughly enjoying the party bike.

"All good?"

"The best!" she whooped over the music. 

Tyrion shouted from the back, "Faster you fools! Let's feel the wind!"

Jaime thought that was a bit optimistic given the less-than-aerodynamic shape of the vehicle, but they were moving at a pretty good clip down the streets of King's Landing, collecting more than a fair share of attention. One or more of the women attracted some wolf whistles, probably Ygritte since she was pedaling in front.

"Hey Y, you should check out that guy. Live it up, it's your bachelorette party!" He regretted the quip immediately, as Jon's face darkened and Brienne scowled. 

Ygritte, of course, laughed it off. "Nah, they were whistling for you, pretty boy!"

He couldn't even enjoy the compliment as much as he'd like, because Brienne took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and -

"Stop, I know exactly what you're going to say," he cut her off. "Street harassment is inappropriate, may lead to violence, blah, blah. I know, I know. I was making a joke."

"Don't tell me -" she bit off whatever she was going to say and turned away from him. All he could see was the back of her pale blonde head, and he couldn't get her attention again.

Hearing that bitter tone of voice aimed at him couldn't help but bring some dark echoes in his mind, but before he could compound his error, Bronn made a sharp right turn and they were now going uphill. Tyrion urged them on, "Pedal harder, more beer on the way!"

Jaime put a little more effort into the pedaling, glad that he changed out of his suit and into jeans and a white button-down more in line with the business casual that the other men were wearing. It was irritating that somehow khaki pants had become a uniform for men to show that they were relaxed enough to not wear a suit, but not enough to show any personality. Aside from Sansa, who was wearing a sporty, yet fashionable outfit, floral top with coordinating scarf, the women in the party seemed to studiously prioritize comfort over appealing to a hypothetical man. And in Ygritte's case, her actual man seemed to find whatever she wore agreeable. Wise fellow.

Dacey shared a story about her cousin's high school mishaps, and his mind wandered back to work and the memorandum of agreement he was reviewing that afternoon. He was hitting his stride now, proud of the initiatives he was driving, being his own man within Lannister Corporation. Jaime wanted to tell Brienne about it. He'd heard her scorn before, pointed remarks about trust fund kids living off their family names and “working” at the family firm, and he hoped he hadn't lost his chance to tell her about his new venture.

Bronn steered them to the curb in front of a large wooden sign of a pirate holding a loaf of bread. Jaime'd never been to the Crusty Heel before, but the brewpub was well known in King's Landing for their unfussy beer and onsite bakery. 

They extracted themselves from the party bike and trooped into the bar, debating what the name meant. 

"He's holding bread, the end of a loaf of bread is the heel."  
"No, I think the pirate's the heel, the bad guy."  
"Or it could mean the pirate's heel - he's raising his foot in the picture."

Addam was insistent that the pirate himself was the heel, and wouldn't shut up until Dacey pilfered a slice of bread from a neighboring table and stuffed it into his mouth, blocking his ability to speak. He looked less upset than one might imagine.

~~ 

The Crusty Heel was packed, but Tyrion made some Lannister magic happen (a considerable tip in advance, most likely), and the servers pushed two tables together, giving them a freshly baked loaf of bread to munch while they decided on drinks. Thankfully, every option seemed uncomplicated here, and everyone relaxed with the first round.

"Tyrion, if you're going to shout at us, you need to learn some real coxswain terms," said Ygritte, tickled to be one of the eight athletes for once, instead the person in charge.

Tyrion waggled his eyebrows, "Coxing of any type is welcome, my friend."

Jon and Brienne both groaned.

Ygritte started instructing, getting more colorful and less accurate with every sip. "When you want more focus and speed, call a power ten - that's ten extra-strong strokes. When you want your team to stop, say 'way 'nuff!' When you're docking, you tell the crew to 'lean away' so that the shell (the boat) tips a little and the riggers on the opposite side will slide over the dock."

"Sure, but don't call 'lean away' to everyone in the middle of the water, you'll flip," said Dacey wryly. She recalled some dicey incidents with a brand new coxswain.

"Y, docking is not super useful on a bike. What do I yell to you make you go double time?" Tyrion was relishing the options, and Jaime decided it was a good moment to extract himself from the chaos about to be unleashed.

He noticed that Brienne had nursed half a Watermelon Wheat at the last bar, and guessed that she was taking her duties very seriously, as usual, drinking lightly in order to keep an eye on Jon, Ygritte, and the others. The servers were so busy that they weren’t coming to the table, so he stood up to get their next round.

"Brienne, would you like something virgin to drink?" He swore he made it sound as far from suggestive as he could.

Her cheeks colored pinkly, "Um, thanks. Something non-alcoholic would be great."

He came back with two glasses of sparkling water with a dash of cranberry, and a combination of stouts and lagers for the rest of the table. She gave him with a small smile, before politely listening to Sam describe his work in biotech.

Sometime later, while Addam spun a tale from their first championship year, Brienne excused herself to go to the bathroom, and Jaime felt oddly at loose ends without her nearby. He'd allowed Gilly to claim his sparkling water, so he walked to the bar to acquire one for himself, plus more beer for Ygritte and Jon. The result was he was standing right there when some asshole said, "Ugly bitch."

Somehow, he knew, he just knew.

He straightened up, turned around as two guys in polo shirts with some kind of tech logo on the pocket planted themselves in Brienne's path as she exited the restroom and tried to cross the bar. She ignored them, and the entitled idiots found it infuriating. "Be grateful, bitch, you can suck my -"

Before Jaime realized what he was doing, he shoved them out of the way. One of them pushed back, and they tussled for half a moment before the other guy realized it was not going well against Jaime's size, and the pair of polo shirts slunk out the door.

"You didn't need to do that." Brienne looked almost bewildered.

"I wanted to."

~~ 

Brienne was in a bit of shock. Not from the _in_ sult, or even from the attempted _ass_ ault (haha, her mind thought in parallel, they were asses, trying to assault, never mind), but from having someone step in to defend her. She was not the kind of girl who inspired that kind of action from anyone. Jaime was probably just feeling protective in general, since he was here for Ygritte.

She noticed that his hand was bleeding a bit. "Here, we should clean that up." This allowed her to retreat to a familiar role, the one who took care of things.

"It's nothing," he waved her off. "Must have caught on his ring or something."

"You should let me put some antiseptic on it. You wouldn't want an infection from wherever that clown's been." She frowned.

"Ok wench, but only because I know you'll feel guilty forever if that happened, which it won't."

Brienne twitched a little, not having heard that nickname for a long time. She pulled out her first aid kit, and he eyed the camouflage fabric of the case. 

"The Stormlands First Aid Kit for Men, huh?"

"Well you did ask if I was a man before." She couldn't help but prod that little hurt, so long past.

"Just the first time I saw you. From the back. And in my defense, your hair was very short then." He stopped before he could dig himself deeper.

"Mmmm." She dabbed his cuts and rummaged for a band-aid. Holding his hand, even for medical purposes only, made her heart race a little. He was so warm and so close.

"Why do you have the men's kit?"

"Because the First Aid Kit for Women was seven dragons more expensive."

"Was it different?"

"The case was pink."

"That's all? Everything else was the same?" he sounded horrified.

"It also had a tampon," she blushed a bit, even though there was no shame in a perfectly natural bodily need, but talking about womanly things with Jaime Lannister really threw her off. She abruptly let go of him and stepped away. "All patched up."

~~ 

Their group left the Crusty Heel not long after, cheerful and boisterous. Brienne eyed each person for stability as they crossed the sidewalk to the party bike guarded by Bronn, who quickly tucked something out of sight as they approached. Everyone was still able to walk unassisted, and they got back on the same bike seats, just as Ygritte arranged them before.

This time, however, Tyrion revealed a keg that he'd hidden under blankets. 

"We've been hauling around a keg?" groaned Addam theatrically, until he was handed a frothy cup.

It was so in character for Tyrion that Jaime didn't do more than glare at his brother, but they'd been pedaling the weight of a whole extra person up and down around town. 

Brienne hoped that Tyrion was telling the truth about the party bike having a waiver for the King's Landing ordinance against outdoor alcohol consumption. She prepared a little speech inside her head, in case they were stopped by the police, but maybe the Lannister glamour would protect them anyway. She'd seen it work for Jaime before, shooing away parking tickets, late papers, rules and regulations all mere inconveniences that melted away for him, to her disgust at the unfairness.

"You'll note that I brought plastic cups for safety. Wouldn't want any shattering glass," said Tyrion.

Plastic cups for beer, on a party bicycle, so that everyone could drink even more alcohol while they pedaled around town. Safety was not the word she'd use. Brienne's thoughts were as clear as if she had a word bubble over her head. She didn't say anything though, because Jon had finally consumed enough beer that he stopped looking uncomfortable and started looking exhilarated, at least for him. 

Tyrion handed out cowbells for some reason, and Jon apparently decided that ringing those cowbells was his contribution to the party vibe. They pedaled, rang, and drank through the streets, and she was so happy for her friend and plus a little jittery sitting next to Jaime, that it took a while to notice that precision steering was not a feature of this vehicle. It got distinctly swervy, and she gasped when Bronn narrowly missed a sedan on a downhill turn, but then Tyrion put on a playlist of favorite tunes from their college years, Jon shouted for her favorite jam, and she started to sing along too.

~~

Jaime was a little surprised when they arrived at the third bar without further incident. Ygritte needed a bit of assistance disembarking the party bike, but got a hand from Jon.

"Are you doing ok?" he asked her. "You shouldn’t match us drink for drink, when a lot of us must out-mass you by a hundred pounds."

"I'm good," she replied, almost without slurring. "Ask your brother how he manages."

"No need. He's a living miracle." He was. It couldn't be physically possible for someone of Tyrion's size to hold liquor the way he did, but everyone had their gifts.

He saw Brienne trying to decipher the signage over the door. 

"Don't puzzle over it too much, it's an unpronounceable Valyrian name that only appears in print as a symbol. They have fantastic cocktails though," Tyrion said as he waved them inside.

While seating was sorted out, Jaime read the brochure at the reception stand. 

_(Indecipherable symbol) is an incubator for entrepreneurs of edibles and arts. Since our opening last year, we have been activating our space for musicians and artists. We are proud to feature King's Landings most desired and hyped food concepts in the heart of the city with a micro-kitchen environment. No neighborhood has been left unturned, from the heightened tastes of the Red Keep district to the authentic flavors of Flea Bottom, we bring the best and most thirst-worthy delights to you._

Jaime shuddered at the thought of eating authentic anything from Flea Bottom, but he supposed that whatever creation had been brought to this "activated space” would be thoroughly sanitized. 

He rose up on his toes a bit to murmur in Brienne's ear. "I was wrong about the Golden Company. This place is the pretentious one." She smiled back cautiously.

It was a start. He'd take it.

~~

Brienne examined a sculpture composed of three black marble cubes arranged under a spotlight. She wasn’t moved enough to read the placard about its significance. In contrast to the overstuffed warmth of the Crusty Heel, this Valyrian place was aiming for sophistication, and if it hadn't quite reached its goal, it did have some chilly intimidation going for it.

Her usual party co-wallflower Jon had his arm around his fiancee, and she was feeling a little lonely here. It seemed like a good time to tour the much touted artworks, so she moved on to the next piece, a painting of what looked like a misshapen person holding an oversized green rock and looking puzzled. She sympathized.

Brienne glanced back at their table and saw her friends debating the merits of increasingly ludicrous cocktails presented by the "beverage delivery artist." A pair of elegant women glided by in a waft of perfume, and she stepped aside to let them pass in their clicking heels. She looked behind the bar, and even the "beverage creation artists" were beautiful. She didn't fit in, she looked more like the weird art. She heard footsteps behind her and ducked behind a fern.

It was Sansa, who perfectly fit this kind of chic space, carrying a yellow concoction in a giant martini glass while trying not to spill it. Sansa was also well versed in Brienne-hiding places, and pulled her out.

"Brie, come back to the table."

"I'm going to look at the art a bit longer."

"You hate modern art."

Brienne didn't have an answer to that. "Um."

"What happened at the other bar, Brienne? Addam noticed that Jaime had a camouflage band-aid and teased him about it. I didn't hear what Jaime said, but Addam laughed, said that defending your honor was becoming Jaime's hobby, and that it was just like the time he punched Ron Connington at a crew reunion."

 _Jaime punched Ron Connington?_ "He did what?” It couldn't have been for me, she thought.

"You should ask Jaime about it, really. I think he likes you, he's been very attentive."

Brienne couldn't let herself think that. It would only lead to heartbreak for someone like her. Sansa knew Jaime from the society events that their families frequented, but she couldn't be right. Jaime graced magazine covers, usually wearing a perfectly fitted suit for a profile on Lannister Corp, but sometimes in artful casuals and designer stubble for a fashion rag. That wasn’t her world. She could only shake her head at Sansa.

"He's been staying tight to the group all night," said her friend, leaving unsaid the obvious, which was that Jaime could smile or even frown becomingly at any woman at any bar, and have her company.

"He's just keeping an eye on Ygritte, making sure she's ok."

"No, that isn't it.” Sansa patted her arm gently.

Brienne visited two more pieces of terrible art to make a point that she really was fully experiencing the ambiance of this beverage, eatery, and artistic incubator. 

~~

"Getting tired, ready to turn in?" needled Tyrion.

Jaime craned his neck from his chair, trying to find where Brienne had gone. He knew that Tyrion knew that there was no way he’d miss a minute of this. "Nah, it's still early for me yet."

"I wouldn't know, brother. When was the last time you went out, unless you're fulfilling your duty as the face of Lannister Corp? A fine face, certainly, but you need more of a life."

"I'm trying, Tyrion, I'm trying. Do you think - " He stopped, too many thoughts catching up with him.

"My, my, the golden tongue of Jaime Lannister, corporate public relations dream, reduced to half sentences over a girl. Hoping to put that tongue to other uses?"

"She's not just any girl."

"She's unique. I like her, Jaime. Stop overthinking this." Tyrion turned back to rest of the table, where Sam and Gilly were describing their summer gardening ambitions to Jon and Ygritte. Tyrion rolled his eyes a bit, and waved "shoo" to his brother.

Jaime saw Sansa returning alone and leaned over to get her attention. He wasn’t a favorite among the elder Starks, but he and Sansa had struck up a mutually beneficial alliance over the years at various society galas. Now and again, an overzealous suitor or lady would attach themselves like a lamprey, but a dazzling smile from Jaime or a coolly appraising glance from Sansa would grant the other enough leverage to break free.

"Do you know where Brienne is?"

She tilted her head in the direction she came from and her smile was suspiciously encouraging. 

Jaime thanked her, looked across the space and saw a tall blonde figure. He moved swiftly along the path between tables.

~~

Brienne was standing near a lumpy sculpture that looked alarmingly like turds when Jaime joined her.

"I find this quite inspirational and moving," he said.

She eyed him nervously, until she saw the mirth in his eyes. "I feel bad saying this is awful, because one is supposed to be open to the artist's vision," she tried for a lofty tone.

"You're always so fair. This art, however, makes me want to use the toilet, and so it's an unwelcome vision. Maybe it fits in the bathroom." 

"It would look so unhygienic though. I'd veto it." She was feeling a little bold, venturing opinions, which made no sense, because she gave her opinion all day long in her business, working with the rest of the software developers, talking to investors, working with the marketing specialist. She might never love that part of the job, but she did it, and she was good at it. Why did telling an old acquaintance, someone she probably wouldn't even see again, a silly thought about sculpture feel momentous?

"Based on that wisdom, I will beg your guidance in all bathroom art selections for my home going forward,” said Jaime.

She flushed. If she wanted to, she could interpret it as him caring about her thoughts, but he was just jesting. She wanted to ask him about Ron, but maybe that could wait.

"Let's get a drink, and some nicer surroundings," he gestured at the turds dismissively.

They ended up near an almost pleasant landscape painting that looked like it was inspired by some of the less troubled Impressionists, and a beverage delivery artist placed the components of an elaborate cocktail on a small table in front of them.

"Martini glasses must be the most ridiculous shapes to ever pretend to hold liquid. Pretty though," he commented.

Pretty like him, she thought very, very quietly in her head. "What's the name of this drink?" she asked out loud.

"It's a Pornstar Martini."

"What?"

"The martini glass has passionfruit juice, and there's usually a shot of champagne on the side to pour in, you know, the money shot," he had the grace to look a little embarrassed, before he continued, "but I asked them to bring us shots of sparkling cider instead." He poured the shot in the martini glass and hands it to her.

"You ordered me a _virgin pornstar_?" She started to giggle and when she gingerly took a sip, the bubbles went up her nose, making her laugh more.

He was laughing now too, and she had to catch her breath at seeing this glorious golden man smiling at her. He was so much kinder than she remembered, or maybe what she chose to remember.

~~ 

It was easier to talk now that they'd broken the ice with their silly cocktails, and Jaime found that he was able to ask about her start-up, and tell her how he admired the company she was building from scratch.

She asked questions too, and he got to share his ambitions to be more than a rich brat living off his name, to do more than be a talking head. He'd been taking a growing role in driving strategy for Lannister Corp, and while it wasn’t exactly what his father intended, Tywin wouldn't argue with results. The market was interested in socially responsible, climate-aware, effective product, and it was good business to offer it.

They commiserated on how to balance the need to hire quickly with the desire to work with good humans, and she said she was keeping the amount of outside capital investment low, so they wouldn't be as vulnerable to pressure. They moved on to other topics, both warmed by mutual respect. 

Jaime had a moment to reflect that Tyrion would never let him live this down, if he knew how geeky their private conversation was. His brother has told him repeatedly that his good looks were wasted on someone with no game, but he was discovering that it didn’t matter. In this one moment with this one woman, he knew what to say. He wanted to offer his help with her business, but he knew that it was too soon. He knew that this wouldn’t be their only time together. His heart felt right in a way it never had before.

This Valyrian place might have abysmal art, but the conversation was spectacular, a feeling that seemed to be reflected in her astonishing blue eyes. 

~~

Jaime wasn’t sure where Bronn went while they were inside the other bars, but by the time he and Brienne returned to their table, not quite touching, although Jaime really wanted to, Tyrion had befriended him. Bronn was now drinking prodigiously right next to where Addam and Dacey were facing off with two rows of shot glasses in between them.

Ygritte, looking a little disheveled, shirt coming untucked, coxed the race. "All ready? ROW!" 

Addam and Dacey pounded their first shots, slamming the glasses on the table. Ygritte continued, "I want energy right NOW. Keep it HERE. Make it HURT."

He flashed back to this exact scenario in university, except that back then, Addam followed the senior-year code of not taking advantage of frosh Dacey. Years later, it was no holds barred. The glasses crashed down, one after another.

Regardless, it looked unwise. Tyrion, raised his glass. "It's just beer. I talked to the waitress. Not everyone can hold their liquor," he added, with a self-satisfied grin.

Jaime looked at Brienne, who was torn between horrified and amused at this "responsible" action. He nodded reassuringly at Jon, who was a bit dazed, watching the whole scene.

Ygritte called, "Finish it off with a BANG. I can see the finish. You're animals! You WANT this!"

Addam and Dacey dropped their tenth shot at arguably the same time, and moved to staring each other down.

~~ 

The dignity of the party had distinctly deteriorated by the time they emerged from the unnameable bar, and it took a good five minutes for everyone to get situated in their bicycle seats, including Bronn. It was only a few blocks to travel on all flat streets, so everything should be fine, thought Brienne, just fine. She was starting to admit that having Jaime by her side gave her more of a buzz than the finest champagne. Not that she’d ever had fine champagne, but she could imagine some in her future.

The party bike was going somewhat faster than it should, thanks to Tyrion calling a "Power Ten" that the rowers couldn't resist, so when Bronn made a wrong turn, a sharp right going downhill, Brienne felt the entire vehicle start to tip to the starboard side. This might be her own personal hell on wheels, she thought as time slowed down, and she could see how they were going to roll and crash on top of poor Ygritte and Jon.

She gasped, "Lean away!"

Ygritte, quick gal that she was, picked up her meaning immediately and barked "PORTSIDE lean away!"

The rowers were so used to obeying that tone of command that Jaime, Dacey, and Brienne all threw their substantial weight to the left, and miraculously, they didn't tip over. 

They looked at each other across the bike, breathing hard and amazed to be unbroken.

~~

Bronn managed to stop on the side of the street, with a screeching of the brakes and the whole frame of the party bike shuddering. Everyone climbed off shakily. Sam helped Gilly and Tyrion down. The milling crowd waiting outside a nightclub looked at them curiously. 

Brienne's tote bag landed by her feet, as well as a bunch of glossy gift bags emblazoned with the logo of Red Keep Gifts that must have been tucked in another cubby. She picked one up and examined the contents: A Highgarden Originals eye mask, a bottle of aspirin and an elegant bottle of Glasbe water, which claimed to be collected by angels from the purest glacial streams, and priced to match. 

"I overruled Tyrion's first idea, which was a miniature selection of whiskeys," said Jaime.

Brienne nodded. Jaime looked her over. She was uncomfortable under his scrutiny, and turned to help Gilly check on the rest of the party. There were some bumps and bruises but no blood. She didn't even have to haul out her first aid kit again, but no one wanted to get back on the bike.

"Well I guess that's all folks!" Bronn said as he climbed back aboard the party bike. "I've got to get this baby back to base."

"How are you going to pedal it by yourself?" asked Jon.

Bronn laughed and powered up the hidden motor. 

"There's a motor?!" groaned a chorus of unsteady voices. He puttered off, weaving less than Brienne would expect.

Energy started to dissipate from the near-disaster, and it was time to go home. Brienne fired up the rideshare app, because she was so done and wanted everyone out of her hair. Ygritte launched into a wordy thank you for the simply fabulous celebration, while Jon kept her steady and noted they had all day Sunday to recover, so they should be able to arrive at the courthouse Monday bright and early. Sansa distributed hugs and headed for the subway. 

When the first rideshare arrived, Addam solemnly stated with exaggerated care that he'd make sure Dacey got home safely, took a gift bag almost daintily and climbed into the car with her. They both nearly hit their heads as they ducked inside, but managed to remain upright.

Jaime raised his eyebrows to Brienne. She knew that he was checking whether she thought that Dacey would agree to this if she were sober. Brienne appreciated his concern, but knew that (1) Dacey had been making eyes at Addam all night (and for years prior), (2) her six foot plus, muscled frame was enough to take Addam down if he put a step wrong, and (3) she was less inebriated than she seemed. Dacey waved and winked through the window. Brienne nodded, and the pair were off. 

Tyrion reached up to kiss Ygritte's cheek, sketched a salute to Jaime, and said, "Good luck," almost inaudibly, before disappearing inside the nearest nightclub.

The next rideshare arrived, and there was a flurry of activity as Brienne stuffed Ygritte, Jon, Sam, Gilly, and a bunch of gift bags into the minivan to take them back to their car. Gilly hadn't been drinking since the first stop, so she'd be able to drive the wedding pair to their hotel before taking herself and Sam home. It was only four blocks, but Brienne didn't want to put Gilly through the hassle of shepherding them through the streets.

Brienne finished giving directions to the driver, the minivan sped off, and she sighed, alone in a moment of blissful quiet, the night cool and dark. 

~~

Now or never, he thought. He stepped up to her side. "A lovely night."

She startled, and looked at him, perhaps surprised that he was still here.

She was so warm, so close. He held out his arm, like a gentleman would offer a lady. "Could I buy you a drink?"

"NO."

"I'm kidding." He picked up the remaining gift bag. "How about a really nice bottle of water? Or just a quiet walk?"

He could tell that she was about to default to no, she needed to get some rest, there was a lot to get done tomorrow, any excuse.

Be bold, he thought. She was the goodness for whom he was learning to be worthy. Jaime stepped into the light so that she could see his face clearly, looked up at her and gave just the tiniest smile. Not the patented Lannister charm that he used to move through the world. This was just for her.

Brienne paused for a long moment, long enough that his heart was pounding by the time she took a deep breath, and took his arm. 

They strolled side by side, and he whispered in her ear. He spoke too softly for her to hear, so she leaned closer to him, and he kissed her gently on the cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: I'm the best man, you're the maid of honor and we have to throw a joint stag/hen night, may the gods help us get through this.  
> ~~
> 
> Thanks for reading my first fic!
> 
> Thank you to [slipsthrufingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slipsthrufingers/pseuds/slipsthrufingers), [nire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nire/pseuds/nire), and [Roccolinde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roccolinde/pseuds/Roccolinde), the organizers of the Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020. This has been so delightful and fun, and you've been so welcoming.
> 
> I was thrilled to get Samirant's prompt and worked in the tiniest homage to her fabulous [Rush Me All Night Long](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24140989/chapters/58126906).
> 
> And so much appreciation to [tall_wolf_of_tarth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tall_wolf_of_tarth/pseuds/tall_wolf_of_tarth) for the beta read! 
> 
> All mistakes are my own.
> 
> ~~
> 
> Rowing crew: It's been a long time, but I have fond memories of being a coxswain. Here's a little primer, in case you were interested.
> 
> The coxswain or cox sits in the stern (back) of the boat (or shell) and is the only person facing forward. The eight rowers sit facing backwards, each with one oar, in sweep rowing. (There is also another form of rowing called sculling, where each rower has two oars.) An "eight" (a shell that seats 8 rowers and a coxswain) is about 60 feet in length and a little more than 1 foot wide. The rowers will have oars on alternating sides of the shell. Oars are about 12 feet long. (The sheer size of everything makes the coxswain's job of getting everyone and everything moved around on land very exciting. Not.) There are also smaller shells that seat four, two, or a single rower.
> 
> The rower closest to the cox is called the stroke (sitting in seat 8). The stroke sets the pace, as guided by the cox, and all rowers follow his/her rhythm. If the stroke is on the port side (most common), seats 6, 4, and 2 will also be port, while seats 7, 5, 3, and 1 will be starboards (usually. There are some weird rigging variations that I won't mention). The 1-seat is also known as bow, since he/she sits in the bow (front-most part of the shell.) Typically, the smallest rowers sit in seats 1-2, and the biggest in seats 5-6 (the “meat seats”), and the most technically proficient and aggressive in 7-8.
> 
> A racing eight can have a coxswain of any gender. There's a minimum weight of 120 pounds for a men's crew cox, and 110 pounds for a women's crew cox. There's no rule issue if the cox is heavier, but the crew has to pull that extra weight. If the cox is lighter, he/she needs to carry weight to make up the balance. 
> 
> There's a reason why saccharine inspiration posters of "Teamwork" always use an image of a rowing crew. When the team is in sync, it truly is a miracle of movement, perfection together. When they're not, it's hell.
> 
> Because Jaime and Brienne only overlapped one year in KLU crew, (plus she was on the women’s team and he on the men’s,) they’ve never been in the same boat before. I can only imagine how they’d look (and feel!) rowing together! <3


End file.
